


Visits to Med Bay

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Enemas, Humiliation, Injections, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Kink, Multi, Other, Scat, Sedation, background kylux, dubcon, no sexual acts just gross medical kink, rectal temperature, scat tag is just there bc of mentions, sedatives, temperature taking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-09-14 13:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16914012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: General Hux has to submit to some gentle but inescapable, deeply uncomfortable treatments administered by a team of medics.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> posting this gross stuff because I know there must be people out there who are into it. Scat tag is mostly bc of enemas & humiliation, there will be no handling of feces beyond medical context.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> contains: injections, sedatives, rectal temp, mention of scat

“just a little prick…”

liar, Hux thinks grimly, pressing his eyes shut. The shot hurts, like it always does, and he has to grit his teeth to avoid the little whimper that is threatening to escape the back of his throat.

“shh, big boy. you’re brave, aren’t you?”

of course they would notice. They always do. Hux can already feel shame pooling in his stomach, and he knows that it won’t be long until he will be crying again, and that alone makes him feel pathetic. I’ll come back another time, he wants to say, I’ll get an appointment for next week, thank you - but with the injection stinging in his lower buttock he realizes with horror; it is already too late. The needle is pulled out, the spot dabbed with burning disinfectant, a band aid is taped on.

“there you go, very good.”

Hux tries to say something- but his tongue feels so heavy, all of a sudden. Too late. Too late. The sedative works despicably fast. Someone is rubbing his back.

“shh, boy. Just relax.” Hux, his name is Hux, and he is the General. But all he can do is make a sound of complaint, because his damn tongue is already refusing words. “so grumpy”, someone tuts. Sounds of amused agreement. Hands are at his hips, pulling at his pajama bottoms. No. No, please no.

“Time to take your temperature, General.”

Hux closes his eyes in shame. The inevitable comes in the form of gloved hands on his bared cheeks and an icy cold instrument sliding into his clenching behind, sliding in, in, in, oh, it should not be this deep. But it goes in anyway, and it is held in place, and even when he tries to push it out - no more than a feeble attempt with the sedative making him limp and loose- it is only twisted cruelly, and sunk further into his helpless arse. Hux stifles a whine, presses his face into the pillow instead. Just a few minutes, he tells himself, and if he is lucky, it’ll be just that, and they’ll pull up his pants again afterwards, and he’ll be let go. Minutes tick by in an endless sludge, and whoever is making sure the thermometer stays in place must be annoyed with the slow passing of time, too, because they keep toying with the thing: letting it go, then nudging it back when it starts to slip out, twisting it cruelly in Hux’ sensitive bottom. Finally, the device gives a little whirr and beep, a ticklish sensation at his rim. It’s pulled out, and there’s a wet little sound as it leaves his body. Hux sighs with relief. Now can they pull his pants up again?

“uh-oh”, someone tuts. They must be checking the reading, now, and checking the tip of the-

“ah, ah, ah. someone’s got a dirty bottom."

 

Hux feels the colour drain from his face. No. not again.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> contains: sedatives, mild pain, enemas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huge trigger warning for noncon and helplessness, as in every chapter. There is a very brief mention of sex in this chp.

Hux tries to protest- but all he can manage is a feeble whine, and a slurred murmur. People are moving around the room, undoubtedly gathering supplies. No no no.

“asyour- asyour **General,** I forbi- I forb- I-”, it comes out as a breathy mumble, and there is no sign of obedience - instead, someone pets his head.

“shh, now. Don’t talk. It’ll be okay, just relax.” the voice is genuine, and it does sound kind, but Hux squirms nevertheless, trying to escape from what is to come, even though he knows it’s way too late to back out. The medic next to him- apparently tasked with comforting the unwilling patient - places their flat hand on the center of his back.

“now, now. An accomplished General, and so scared of a small procedure?”, they tut. Hux can feel the colour rising in his cheeks. “aren’t you a brave General? hm?”

He knows it’s a trick, but the jab at his pride works. Hux ceases his struggling, because he knows there is no escape now anyway. No use embarrassing himself further. He still can’t stop shifting nervously- but he ceases his weak attempts at escape and his protests. Again, cold gloved hands spread his cheeks. Way too wide this time: the spread is enough to pull at his rim, which must be completely exposed under the bright white lights. Hux squeezes his eyes shut and tries to clench- but he hardly manages more than a little twitch of his poor pucker, moments before ice cold lubricant is rubbed on it with clinical precision.

“hold him down.”, someone says, tonelessly. Hands weigh on his lower back, on his thighs. He whimpers in fear, and the medic at his side strokes the side of his face in a deceptively gentle gesture.

“shhh, big boy.”

Instead of the dreaded nozzle, something else slips inside him. Hux mewls softly, startled when cold lube floods him. “more pressure.”, someone comments, and Hux can feel it being squirted up his bum with a quick press of what must be some form of syringe. He tries to even his breathing- an effort the medic to his side comments with “good boy”, and before he knows it, the small thin tube is pulled out again, followed by a drizzle of lube that feels wet and gross sliding out of him. “good.”, someone says, meaning not him but the state of the procedure. He tries to clench again, but all that does is make more slick come out of him with a mortifying wet noise. Hux ducks his head into the pillow. Noises behind him. They must be preparing the nozzle now, because for a moment, the hands holding him down disappear. Someone lifts his hips- when he is lowered again, he comes to rest on what feels like a pillow, angling his bottom up.

“hold him.”

The hands return, leaving not an inch to wriggle. Hux sniffles into the pillow.

“shhh.”, coos the medic next to him, patting his back. “relax.”, someone from behind instructs him. Hux clenches as tightly as he can.

Something blunt presses against his hole. Then, there’s pressure- more and more, and Hux realizes with horror that they will push it in despite his resistance. Suddenly, he wants to relax, because if this goes in while he’s clenching, it’ll surely hurt, and-

When Hux, panicked, abruptly stops clenching, the nozzle plunges into him. The medic has no time to adjust the pressure they had to use to force it in, and so, Hux yelps as the bulbous thing rams home, much faster and deeper than intended. ...oh. ow. _ow._ There’s a short delay caused by the sheer shock of it, but then, Hux grimaces helplessly as his hole starts to ache. Some medic, probably the one that was handling the nozzle, gives his poor bum a pat - or light slap?

“well? That’s what you get for being disobedient.”, they comment. I’m sorry, he wants to say, but he just bites into the pillow, sniffling. At least the medic beside him is giving him a backrub, is there to comfort him. “does it hurt?”, they ask, and he nods, sniffs. But instead of removing the damned thing from his body, instead of letting him leave, the traitorous medic turns around to their colleagues and goes: “fissure?”

“no, ‘course not.”

“alright. Go on, we’ll apply cooling agent later, then.”

Hux wants to say no, they need to stop, now!- but then, warm water starts flowing into him with a spurt that reminds him, untimely, of nights spent in bed with Ren, and orgasms of the latter up his - he tries to tune it out, focus on the noises around him instead of on the memories.

“leakage?”

“not yet-”

a rude tug at the thing in his arse. “ -but there’s some wriggle room.”

“pump it up by one,”

no, no-! but the nozzle inflates promptly, and Hux whines, helpless to stop it.

“and crank up the flow, medical history says he’s got a tendency towards constipation.”

If he presses his face into the pillow real hard, Hux reasons miserably, maybe he’ll disappear. He’d rather go back to thinking about Kylo Ren’s copious cum production than be reminded of the mortifying visit to med bay that cemented the constipation diagnosis. The memory vanishes soon, though, as the water starts to flow deeper, causing enough discomfort for him to focus in on his abdomen which is growing heavier, gurgling quietly. It must be almost over, Hux consoles himself, gritting his teeth. When the medic by his side speaks up again, he almost moans, grateful to be done soon.

“sooo.”

Just spit it out, he begs internally.

“almost halfway done. You’re being very brave.”

“whaddoyou -what do you mean only ha-  … halfwa-” Hux’ terrified retort is muffled by something being stuffed into his mouth. It tastes sterile, rubbery, and he tries to spit the ball of cloth rolled up in a disposable glove out, without success.

“shh, now. You’re going to bite yourself, trying to talk on sedatives.”, a medic chastises. The one that  sits next to him nods, and Hux really wants to tell them both they are fired, but he can’t.

And kriff, his stomach is cramping.


End file.
